


The Clock Struck One.

by DixieGrayson



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Crime fic, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gore, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Mild torture, Murder Mystery, Mystery, No Romance, No Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieGrayson/pseuds/DixieGrayson
Summary: The knife in his hand shines and I know this is it. My wrists tied above my head quiver with the stress of holding up my body. My only hope is that Bruce works out who this guy is as quickly as I did, maybe then he can find me. Yet as the blade plunges into my forearm I know that the clock is counting down, and its counting fast.





	The Clock Struck One.

I’ve always hated Mondays. Nothing good ever happens on a Monday. Like today, today has just been shit from start ‘til finish. It was supposed to be so normal, so average (heh, like that ever happens) and now I’m here, blood oozing out of my stomach, getting ready to meet my maker. I just hope he’s more forgiving than Bruce will be. Bruce. He’ll be devastated if I die, he’ll be brooding for weeks and my brothers…Oh God…Damian. The realisation hits me like a ton of bricks, crushing my chest, my already laboured breathing becoming harder by the second. With a brutal cough I feel my ribs shake, forcing blood to spill down my chin from my lips, the hot crimson feels boiling against my cold skin. How did I even get here? It wasn’t even a mission. I’m not dying as a hero, I’m dying as a civilian. I always was a disappointment. I should have known the signs. I should have realised who he was. I’m paying for my mistakes. This would never happen to Batman… __________________________________________________________________________________

_Wake me up before you go go…don’t leave me hanging on lik-_

Urghh. What is that noise? Lifting my head to look for the source of the racket I am immediately thrust into a world of pain – it’s too fucking sunny. Hand grasping the cold rectangle, I swipe to turn off the offending noise. Why is that even my alarm? With a large stretch and a yawn, I go into my clock app. Wayne tech mobiles…over complicated piles of crap. Squinting I look at my phone screen ready to press the stop button – then I see it. Fuck. 10am....10AM! I was supposed to be at work hours ago! Launching myself out of bed I rush around throwing my uniform on (and I did NOT fall over trying to get my boxers on). Tooth brush still in mouth I stumble into the kitchen. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Master Richard” Alfred’s voice rings clear in my head. I suppose I should call Bruce at some point…he’s been awfully broody recently. For Fuck sake. In my reminiscing I’ve knocked over my box of cereal. Oh well, no time to clear it up now. I know, I know, wasting cereal – sacrilege. Barely remembering to spit out my toothbrush I run out of the front door. Only to step straight into a pile of dog shit. Scraping off my shoe I arrive at the bus stop. Thankfully I didn’t miss the number 9, it takes me straight to wo- the bastard. It wasn’t even full! He Just drove straight past me! Wanker. Oh well no time to waste. Sticking out my thumb I manage to get a taxi. Just as I hop in and shut the door it starts raining, pouring hard actually. Phew, I could have been soaked to the bone! Do you know what? Maybe today won’t be such a bad day after all.


End file.
